


Depth of Devotion

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, BAMF John Watson, Couch Sex, Dark John Watson, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Topping from the Bottom, yep dark and fluff in the same fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 04:07:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1331302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock belongs to John. No one touches a hair on his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Depth of Devotion

Sherlock was always a bit faster than John thanks to longer legs. He darted into the alley after the suspect, leaving John turning the corner _just_ as a shot rang out.

Sherlock was down. John's world stopped as the man took aim at the prone figure. Without thought he hurled himself forward, shoving the gun to the side seconds before it went off. There was the crack of broken bone.

Next thing John knew, Lestrade had both arms around him, hauling him back. "John. _John_." The man was on the ground, not moving, maybe not breathing. He twisted out of Lestrade's arms and turned toward Sherlock. The detective was sitting up, watching wide-eyed while one of the police tended a superficial wound on his arm.

Blinking, Sherlock looked up at him. "I'm fine. Mostly missed."

"He was going to shoot you again," growled John.

"Yes. The bullet is imbedded into the bricks."

Lestrade looked between the two. "Looks like self-defense to me. But I would suggest you both go home."

Sherlock got to his feet. John stalked towards the main road, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. "John I..." Sherlock started.

"Shut up." John grabbed the front of his coat and shoved him up against the nearest wall. "How many times have I told you? Not without me."

Sherlock met his eyes. He reached up and touched John's cheek. "You're hurt."

Grumbling, John dropped him and started back to the main road again. Whatever was wrong could be tended when they got home.

The cab ride was icy. Sherlock meekly paid the cabbie as John stalked upstairs. He took off his jacket and only then noticed the deep gash on his arm.

"He pulled a knife when you knocked the gun away." Sherlock didn't detail what happened after that, just fetched the kit. John took his shirt off, sitting on the couch in his undershirt when Sherlock got back. "It's your left, I'll sew it up," he said.

John opened his mouth and closed it, watching stoically as Sherlock cleaned the wound and closed it up with small, neat stitches. "I thought he'd killed you," said John as he finished.

Instead of answering, Sherlock kissed his wrist. John grabbed his hair and pulled him up to kiss him hard.  "I may have killed your suspect."

"He was breathing when we left." Sherlock's eyes were dark as he straddled John's lap. "The depths of your devotion astound me."

"After all this time?" John flipped them over so Sherlock was on his back on the couch. "There is very little I would not do for you."

"I do not deserve..."

John yanked Sherlock’s hair again to shut him up and leaned down to suck on his throat until the man moaned underneath him. "Do not tell me what you do or do not deserve," John rolled his hips against him. "You're mine."

"Yes," groaned Sherlock. "Please, John."

John kissed him hard and got up to fetch lube. By the time he returned, his lover had shimmied out of his trousers and pants. John went to his knees next to the couch and went down on him. Sherlock closed his eyes and groaned, hands sending John's hair in disarray.

Moaning, Sherlock rocked under his wicked mouth, grabbing the arm of the couch as John worked him over. John pulled off with a pop and climbed over his waist, withdrawing his fingers from himself. He held Sherlock's gaze as he lowered onto his cock.

"Oh God, John!" Sherlock cried out and reached for him. John quickly pinned his wrists, sinking all the way down, groaning as Sherlock filled him.

"You are everything I want. Everything _I_ deserve." He scraped his hands down Sherlock's chest, riding him hard. Sherlock writhed underneath him, eyes screwed tightly shut as he panted and moaned. John leaned forward and worried his lip in his teeth, making him buck up against him, nearly throwing him off.        

John pushed down and let go of Sherlock’s wrists to squeezed his cock. Sherlock took advantage to grab him and flip them over, fucking him into the couch with a growl.

"Do it," ordered John. "Come for me."

With a cry Sherlock spilled inside of him, sending warmth and pleasure down his spine, head dropping to John's shoulder as he panted. "Get on your knees," purred John in his ear.

Sherlock pulled out and obeyed, kneeling on the floor. John sat up and stroked his cock. "Open your mouth." He leaned forward and came across his lips and tongue, a few drops hitting his cheek.

John bent his head to lick his cheek. Sherlock whimpered softly. John ran his hands through his curls. "Don't ever run off without me."

"I promise," said Sherlock, though they both knew the truth.

John stood and grabbed his pants. "Let's go to bed. We can discuss this in the morning." There was just a hint of warning in his tone.

Sherlock draped himself over his shoulders. "I love you," he said, very quietly.

John froze. Stepped out of his embrace, he turned to face him. He studied his worried face and raised a hand to cup his cheek. "I love you too," he said and kissed him. He took Sherlock's hand and silently led him to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
